The Shining Beacon
by TheUnrealShowoddyWoddy
Summary: (1940s era AU) In the midst of a great war between two kingdoms, a Shining Beacon will rise to give shelter to those who seek it. This is the story of The Beacon Hotel, and the Concierge who ran it. (Monochrome)
1. The Shining Beacon

As soon as the first bomb exploded in the center of Vale and the buildings began to crumble, almost every country promptly lost their collective shit. The media went into a frenzy; ' _Vale and Atlas at War Once Again'_ was suddenly in every newspaper everywhere. Both governments began delegating. The public went into overload, preparing for the worse. Fat cat executives with private islands outside of Vale and Atlas laughed and began placing first few months were the definition of madness. No one knew who was going to win.

And then, in the blink of an eye, two years had past. In those two years, nothing of particular importance happened. The war ended in a stalemate. The world moved on, as it tended to do.

And in the hills of Vale, where snow met untouched stone atop the windswept peaks of the highest mountains, an idea was hatched. That idea?

To tell a story.

The story of a hotel, one that stood the test of the war, but fell to the cold and unforgiving grip of time.

It was a shining Beacon of hope.

It had excellent room service.

And that story began on a rainy day during the first Winter of the war.

 _ **Chapter 1: The Shining Beacon and the Weary Traveler**_

The Beacon Hotel sat upon the side of a mountain, far above the city of Vale. It was a large, square building with four floors (not including the ground floor) and two elevators, as well as three flights of stairs and one emergency ladder that was located behind the building. It was old and looked faded from afar, but up close it was clear to see it was in fantastic shape for its age. A fresh coat of paint was applied every two years, that year being the year they skipped out, and all of the windows were regularly cleaned.

The staff consisted of one bellhop, one janitor, one desk assistant, two greeters, two alternating bartenders, two elevator operators, three on-site maids, four bathroom assistants, four entertainers, four general helpers, five waiters, six cooks, six chefs, seven cleaners and one Concierge.

The previous owner of the hotel was something of a mystery, and only went by the name Ozpin. He sold the hotel to the Schnee corporation six years prior and in that time, under the management of a random Schnee underling, the hotel had gone essentially bankrupt and was left empty. And then, in a forced move, Jacques Schnee handed the hotel over to his youngest daughter, who had made an agreement to leave home in return for taking over the hotel. She saw it as a small price to pay for leaving home behind.

While Jacques was at first happy with the move - his daughter was well known for being organised and studious -, he soon came to regret it. She disassociated the hotel from the Schnee brand and renamed it 'The Shining Beacon' or 'The Beacon' because that was what Weiss believed the hotel represented. A Beacon of class and respect in a kingdom at war.

It had been one full year since Weiss had taken over, and in that time the hotel had flourished magnificently. They had more guests than ever and the staff were well trained for a change. While most hotels were placed within the city limits, the Beacon had the advantage of being far away from potential bombing runs from Atlesian planes and most guests were prepared to pay out as much cash as possible for this type of security. And the Beacon Hotel was happy to oblige.

Weiss stood in the hall, listening to the afternoon rain batter against the windows. She was gazing up a painting, which hung between two pillars on the second floor of the hotel.

The painting was of a lighthouse, sat in the middle of a raging sea. It's light shot off into the distance, a golden beam, and partly illuminated a boat, battered and broken by the heavy winds and the screaming rain. Stood upon the boat was a hooded figure, grasping the wheel and attempting to turn towards the lighthouse.

Weiss had acquired the painting a few years ago at an auction, a purchase she now heavily regretted. The paintwork was awful, the waves were a particularly ugly shade of blue and the lighthouse was off center. It tilted ever so slightly to the left, and it bugged her. The boat was the best part of it, which was even more annoying seeing as half of it was covered by darkness. Sadly, she had missed these particular details when initially bidding on the painting, possibly due having been seated at the back of the hall.

"I will take you down." she threatened with a pointed finger as her lips tugged downwards into an irritated frown.

" _But not today…"_ the painting taunted back, and Weiss could've swore the hooded figure flashed a smirk at her.

The slam of a door shook her from her thoughts and she took a breathe, her hands subconsciously moving to her pristine white suit, brushing imaginary dust from the lapel and straightening the matching white velvet tie. The suit was tailor made by an old man who lived outside of the city, a dusty old crow whose fingers could do no wrong. Weiss would've given him a job at the hotel if he hadn't had such infamously rotten luck. The suit clung lovingly to her slender form, showing off her curves and eliminating anything she didn't want someone to notice. Her hair, immaculately done each morning, was tied into a bun which sat on her head just slightly to the left, held in place by a snowflake shaped metal holder. Some may say this was a fashion statement, but in actual fact it was how Weiss had tried to show her rebellious side at home. Her Father had hated it, and so every day when she did up her hair, she did it just slightly askew. It had become one of Weiss' many daily rituals that had followed her since moving away from home. Upon her chest, just above her bust, sat the gleaming badge that signified to guests that she was the Concierge and current senior employee, a position she held in _very_ high esteem.

The slamming door was most likely a guest, perhaps Miss Goodwitch, who'd arrived yesterday morning and who had been rather forthcoming with her judgements of the hotel and its employees. She had requested a different room only a few hours after having been given one, but _only_ after all of her luggage had been unpacked. As much as Weiss despised a judgy customer, it was within her job description to treat them with indifference. A guest was a guest, no matter the personality. And making them as comfortable as possible was what she was paid to do.

Not to say she didn't enjoy her job. In fact, her job was her life. She'd been at it for a year and could no longer picture life without it. Everything she did was in the interest of the hotel. And the hotel was better because of it.

Her job included, but was not limited to, caring for guests, arranging rooms and bookings, greeting guests once they had arrived, overseeing the employees, _hiring_ the employees, making choices for events held in the hotel, organising fundraisers, organising dinners for high paying customers, gaining the respect of said high paying customers, changing and authorising changes to the menu, waiting, ordering, pouring wine and, of course, overseeing decor.

That last one had always caused a bit of bother with Weiss because she had, at one point, had someone to do this for her, but when cutbacks had to be made she opted to fire him, not only because she had to, but also because he was bad at his job. That was the last time she'd hire an Arc to do an architect's job.

"Ruby!" she shouted, and Ruby appeared behind her, hands at her sides. Ruby was, first and foremost, a bellhop. She was also Weiss' protégé, who was destined to take Weiss' position once she had given it up. But for now, Ruby remained a bellhop, dressed in the usual white bellhop uniform and her small white bellhop hat that covered her unusually short red hair.

"Ma'am." Ruby replied with the utmost respect. Despite her training to be as respectable and pleasant as possible, she couldn't help but crack a small smile at the painting. She let out an involuntary chortle as she did.

Ruby's childlike behaviour had at first annoyed Weiss, her constant laughing and sniggering putting her on edge and had thrown her back to when she'd lived at home. But as time had passed, Weiss had accepted the occasional laugh, if only to separate her current lifestyle from her previous one under the hateful will of her Father. But she also let Ruby away with it because she feared becoming that which she had so hated, something akin to the monster her Father had become as he grew older.

And for the most part, Weiss liked Ruby. Even better, the guests did too. She was friendly and caring, if a bit energetic. She was energy in need of a purpose and direction, Weiss had reckoned when first meeting the girl.

"Concierge?" Ruby's voice piped up and Weiss shook herself from her thoughts once again. She had been losing herself to her daydreams far too often as of late, and it was time she regained a little control.

"This painting is horrific. I regret buying it, wholeheartedly. Take note, Ruby. Never bid on a painting from the back row of the auction hall." Weiss said, turning her head slightly in Ruby's direction though not enough to show her face. Ruby tilted her head at the strangely specific advice, but took note regardless.

"I'll have Yang take it down." Ruby nodded, and made a mental note to wake her sister, who was most likely snoozing in the furnace room again.

"Good. Put it in the basement. Let the darkness judge it's beauty." Weiss said, taking one final look at the painting as Ruby scurried off to find her sister, leaving Weiss to bring up the next thing on her priority list.

Before she could, she heard the lift door open up. The low shrieking of metal that accompanied the opening of the steel grated door was a sound that out Weiss' thoughts at ease. From the elevator, Yatsuhashi's head popped out. The mountain of a man barely fit in the elevator, but he was silent and good at listening, so the elevator was the perfect fit. His massive head looked up and down the hall, before spotting Weiss. With a sigh of relief, he called out.

"Concierge, your brother has asked for you."

Weiss sighed at the mention of her brother. Whitley was a cold-hearted, manipulative boy who'd grown up without as much as a drop of free will. He'd idolised their father for his fierce will and lack of both empathy or mercy, which meant that Whitley was a replica of his father, however easier to control. As much as he prided himself on his own quick thinking and sharp wit, he was deviously easy to manipulate.

Weiss took the elevator down to the bottom floor and made her way quickly to the dining hall, a massive, spacious room that had been outfitted with tables of various sizes and designs. Weiss thanked the power that be that Whitley preferred an early dinner, and that there were no other guests in the hall to witness her brother acting the proverbial goat. At the far end, placed specifically next to the kitchen, was Whitley. She could hear him from the other side of the hall. His ranting was echoing off the walls. Snaking her way through the tables, she reached her destination in under a minute, where she observed the scene. Whitely was dressed in his usual suit with the same crisp whiteness that Weiss' suit had. Thankfully, that was where the similarities between the siblings ended.

Ren, her head waiter, was taking Whitley's huff head on, and responding with the occasional 'Yes sir' and 'We're very sorry sir.'. As Weiss approached, Whitley's turned his attention from Ren, who stepped back in anticipation of Weiss' arrival at the table.

"Weiss! Do you run a zoo? Have your waiters had any training whatsoever? Look at what your inept serving girl did." he bawled, and Weiss couldn't help but compare him to a screaming child. Witley had turned twenty two last December, but acted like a twelve year old whose father had too much money. Which was annoyingly true.

The mess he was referring too was nothing more than a tiny drop of red wine that had slipped out of the cup, presumably while whoever was serving him was pouring it. Weiss ignored her younger brothers temper tantrum and instead turned to Ren, who was stood with his head lowered and his hands grasping a silver plate behind his back. She knew Witley would try to listen in on the conversation, and pulled Ren away a little, and began talking in a hushed tone as Whitley glared at them in the same way a prince looks at a leper. Unwarranted contempt.

"What happened?" she asked quickly and Ren informer her of the incident.

"Sun spilt wine on the table. He's awfully cut up about it." he said calmly. In reality, Sun was sitting out back with a cigarette to calm him down. He had almost shoved the wine bottle somewhere that the sun refused to shine.

"Was it Whitley's fault?" she inquired, knowing all too well how unruly her sibling could act.

"He slammed the table as Sun was pouring it." Ren nodded.

Weiss sighed again, and rubbed her temples slowly. She had to deal with this matter quickly and without fuss, lest the other patrons of the hotel complain about the noise.

"Give Sun the rest of the day off, and tell Pyrrha to make him a booking for a free dinner tomorrow. Unlimited wine." she fired off quickly, before turning back to her putrid, child-like brother.

If there was something Weiss hated more than an unruly customer, it was a customer that belittled _her_ staff. It was unacceptable. Horrible. An assault on all that the hotel stood for. And Weiss wasn't going to take it sitting down.

"Whitley, I assume that Father sent you here to check up on me." Weiss began, and immediately Whitley looked taken aback.

"What the hell are you talking about? Have you dealt with the waiter yet? Have you fired him? Damned Animal." Witley cursed.

A distinct slapping was heard throughout the hall, and it echoed off of the lilac painted walls. Weiss had hit her brother, fully across the face, with the back of her hand. There was a flicker of annoyance on her face, not because of her brothers wrongdoings, but because she'd let her anger show and thusly let her mask fall, if only for a brief, gratifying moment.

Witley stood in shock for a few seconds as the welt on his face began to turn a soft red. Ren looked down again, fearful that if he looked on any longer his lips may tug into a rare smile.

"You… You slapped me." Witley managed to stutter, his boyish face still in a state of shocked disgust.

"Yes. I did. You should be used to it by now, seeing as you still live with Father." she said quickly, savouring the embarrassment on Whitley's now glowing red face. You could barely tell the welt from the rest of his face now.

"He'll punish you for this." he spat, throwing his napkin that had been tucked in his shirt collar down onto his half eaten meal. Whitley loved this song and dance. An ambiguous threat that was never followed up. Weiss brushed it off without a second thought.

"I'm sure he will. Next time you see him, tell him that I say hello." she said, once again straightening her suit, before calling out.

"Ruby!"

Ruby's small head poked through the door at the far end of the hall.

"Ma'am?" she called, the words ringing out as Whitley looked on, still furious about how his dinner had taken a turn.

"Call Mr Schnee here a car, and bring his belongings down. He has had a change of heart and wishes to return home." she called back, glaring at Whitley in the meantime. This was the perfect way to simultaneously humiliate her awful younger brother and raise morale in her staff. And she would be lying if she said it didn't feel damned good to do it too. But if she smiled now the illusion would be broken, so her face stayed narrow and serious.

"Yes Concierge. Will he be stopping anywhere?" Ruby asked, and Weiss shook her head no. Even from across the room Ruby saw this and nodded, the door swinging shut as she ran off.

"Ren, would you show this snivelling fiend to the lobby please." Weiss said, putting particular emphasis on the 'snivelling fiend'. Whitley sneered at her, but knew he was beaten, perhaps his only redeeming feature.

"I never wanted to come to this shoddy hotel anyway. I'm happy to leave." he said, attempting to pull together whatever dignity he had, but it was hard to pull together what he never had. And doing so made him look like even more of a villain.

Whitley shoved past Weiss, closely followed by Ren. Weiss smirked at the raven haired waiter as he passed, but Ren kept a professionally straight face. Weiss contemplated taking a few moments to pat herself on the back, but decided instead to collect her thoughts.

Despite her decidedly rocky relationship with her younger brother, that wasn't the case with her other sibling. Winter was, in Weiss' opinion anyway (which was almost never wrong), of a higher breed than Whitley. She was smart, powerful and beautiful. It wasn't a coincidence that Weiss had tried to be like her growing up, and still kept some of her principles at heart. Their relationship was of stoic respect, both aware of each other's intelligence and strength. And they both despised that which they called Father. Weiss preferred to refer to her Father as 'it', rather than 'he'. It was childish, but it was a small victory that Weiss felt was at least owed to her for all the years she had to spend with it.

Weiss tutted as she looked down onto the table and the half eaten meal. It was a waste of perfectly good food. Fat, juicy sausages with mashed potato, expertly made with butter and milk, along with a deliciously thick gravy and steamed vegetables. It was the standard that the guests had come to expect, and for that they could thank Nora, who oversaw the kitchen when Weiss wasn't there. As Weiss was about to clear the table herself, Nora pushed her way out of the kitchen, which was surprisingly noisy for the time of day. Most likely gossiping about Sun, Weiss reckoned. She wasn't condemning them, the kitchen was a hot-spot for rumors about what was what in the hotel. Weiss had actually used this to her advantage once or twice in the past. The clicking of cups brought Weiss back to the present.

"I'll clear that away Boss." Nora told her, picking the various cutlery and plates up.

"We'll share the load." Weiss said with a no-nonsense shake of her head, taking the main plate and the cutlery, while Nora pressed the few cups Whitley had used together with her fingers. Nora was the head chef in the hotel, and a damn fine one at that. Everyone loved her, almost unconditionally at times, and she returned that love. Weiss and Nora had know each other since before the war.

Unlike most hotels, The Beacon employed Faunus full time and at the same rate as other workers. This had become yet another way that Weiss had found to irritate her Father. His - no, _it's_ views had been universally criticised for using unfair, unpaid Faunus labour forces in his factories, and had been cited calling them as ' _lower than human'._ It was a fair enough judgement to say that Weiss' family didn't have the greatest relationship with the public. And much to Weiss' dismay, that had affected the popularity of the hotel. When the hotel had originally opened it had been under the Schnee name. Weiss had ordered the name be stricken from anything as soon as she was given control.

"Good evening, Concierge."

The cooks and waiters nodded in greeting as Weiss and Nora passed. On a glance it would seem that the employees were addressing her in the same way a worker usually greets a senior member of staff, but a closer look showed something deeper, yet simpler. They respected Weiss, not only as a boss, but as a person. Her level of professionalism made them weary at first, but her expert handle on, well, everything, had earned her their trust over time. She cared for her employees because in the end, they were her most loyal customers, who arrived every single day without fault.

Nora placed the dishes in a tub of soapy water and Weiss followed suit, drying her hands on a new hand towel. She decided to indulge herself a little while she had the chance and chat with Nora. The kitchen resumed with it's daily rituals as she leant against the work surface. Nora began to wash the dishes, pulling a cloth from the shelf above her head.

"How are you and Ren?" she asked casually and Nora almost dropped the glass tumbler in her hand.

"W-what? We're not together. I mean, not together-together. We're-"

"You're together." Weiss interjected, feeling as if she was putting a wounded animal out of its misery. "I've known for a while."

Nora felt a bit put out and, in an effort to hide her ever reddening cheeks, began thoroughly scrubbing the dishes once more.

"Who told you?" Nora asked quietly, already picking out several ways to make whoever broke the news pay.

"Ren did. He seemed rather pleased with himself actually." Weiss replied, folding her arms across her chest. The details of Nora and Ren's relationship had been secretly conveyed to her since the moment she arrived in the hotel. It had taken them a year to act on their very obvious feelings for each other, and it had actually become something of a game for everyone else. In the end, however, Weiss was secretly happy they'd finally gotten together. And even more secretly, she wished she had someone to feel that way about. But that had become increasingly irrelevant ever since she'd started her new job.

Nora had a troubled look on her face which lingered for a few moments, but it slowly melted into a warm smile.

"Then I guess I can't hurt him for telling people. As long as he's happy that is. He's happy, isn't he? Because I am, and sometimes it's just so hard to tell with him and-" Nora began, but Weiss cut her off with a single shake of her head.

"He's happy. I can tell." she said, trying to comfort her old friend. Before Nora could respond, Weiss pushed away from the counter and began towards the double doors back through to the dining hall. Just before she pushed through she heard Nora call out to her.

"How could you tell?" she asked. A simple enough question, with a simple enough answer, which Weiss called over her shoulder.

"Because he smiled."

Nora grinned as the double doors swung shut once again.

"Sir, Master Whitley has returned earlier than expected. He wishes to meet with you."

The white haired man in the brown leather chair looked up from his paper. The office he was sat in was as cold as ice, and the man was even colder. His eyebrows raised slightly.

"Oh? Send him in." he voice had an uneasy echo to it, as if the walls themselves didn't want to hear the words he spoke. The butler nodded and backed out with a bow, closing the doors as he left.

The old man stood from his chair slowly, pulling himself to his fullest height. In his prime he had been almost 6'3, but the years had dragged him down since then. His upright posture remained however, a trait of his rigorous upbringing, and he leveled his head, looking towards the dead fireplace at the far end of the room. Unlike most people, he preferred to sit away from the fire at a respectable distance and leave it to warm the room gradually instead of being confronted by the harsh temperatures. It was a strange habit that visitors often found unnerving, and that was the other reason he preferred it that way. His years as a ruthless business tycoon had taught him a fair few tricks, one being to keep whoever you're dealing with on the defense, and keep them rattled. It made it so much easier to negotiate terms when the other person is focused on any perceived danger they may be in.

There was a sharp knock on the door and the brass handle turned downwards as it slid open on greased hinges. Whitley entered quickly, slyly as if he didn't want to be noticed. It was at that point, as Whitley crossed the boundary of the office door, that Whitley became prey.

And Jacques stayed exactly who he was.

"Concierge, a guest has arrived."

Ruby called out as she stood in the doorway to the bathroom on the second floor. Weiss would normally use her private toilet on the fourth floor, but when she wanted to go somewhere that no one would find her, she came here. And now she was trying to figure out how Ruby had found her secret hide out spot. Weiss' almost but not quite irritated voice came from the last stall.

"Who is it?" The noise of the toilet flushing flushed out the sentence and Ruby frowned slightly.

"Ma'am?" she began to say, but Weiss quickly left the stall and repeated her query. "Who is it?"

"A woman. I've never seen her before, but she's quite pretty." Ruby commented as Weiss washed her hands and dried them on the white hand towel beside the sink.

"Now now Red. A bellhop must not make comments about a guests appearance. They are for moving luggage. Nothing more." Weiss said strictly, moving past Ruby and out into the hall.

"Of course. Sorry Ma'am. But the woman is waiting in the lobby. Pyrrha is assigning her a room." Ruby informed her as they walked. Weiss took long, deliberate strides while Ruby took small, flitting steps and struggled to keep up.

"She hasn't made a reservation?" Weiss frowned as they reached the elevator, and Yatsuhashi opened the gate for them both. They stepped in, Weiss nodding to operator. "Lobby please."

"If she'd made a reservation you would've known she was arriving and would've greeted her at the door instead of hiding - er, using the toilet, Ma'am." Ruby reminded her as the gate slammed shut and the lift moved down slowly. There was an awkward silence as Weiss sorted through her mind for guests that may have stayed, but hadn't made a reservation. None of them lined up with how Ruby was describing this new guest. Weiss didn't like it when things didn't go as she expected. If it wasn't planned out meticulously, too many things could go wrong. One could argue this was paranoia, but Weiss preferred to call it preparedness.

The lobby ran down the centre of the main building and consisted of a large central section which included a rounded oak desk placed right in the middle, and two side sections separated by fake marble pillars, which lead to the staircase that in turn lead to the different floors. The elevator was placed at the far end of the hall, at the top of the grand staircase that lead to the first floor. Describing buildings is much easier in your head, as it turns out.

As the elevator door opened, Weiss gave a sweeping gaze over the lobby and spotted a woman dressed in black, stood in front of the sign in desk. She also spied Pyrrha, who was writing in the logbook and swapping keys around. The woman was facing away from them, with her back leaning against the wooden curvature of the desk. Weiss took a moment to focus. She straightened her posture and opened her gait slightly, walking in half strides towards the desk. As she neared the woman, rather ominously dressed in all black, a cold chill ran up her neck, as if someone had run a cold finger up her back. There was the telltale scent of rain in the lobby, and several damp footprints on the red carpet lead from the doors to the front desk. Weiss suddenly felt an overwhelming sensation of apprehension. She took a deep, calming breath.

Just another customer, she thought to herself.

Before Weiss could open her mouth to greet the woman, she turned to face them and Weiss' calming breath caught in her throat. Golden eyes peered at her from beneath a dark hood, with long black hair falling from inside the hood to down past her shoulders. As their eyes met, a curious smirk adorned her pale, lovely features.

"Good evening." the woman said with a smile, pulling her hood down to further reveal her breathtaking features. The only thought running through Weiss' head at that moment was how Ruby was able to see how beautiful she was beneath the hood.

Ruby glanced up at Weiss' face and, in seeing her struggle to comprehend, decided to take the initiative. She motioned to the single black bag at the woman's feet.

"Can I take this for you Ma'am?" she asked politely and the woman took her eyes away from Weiss for a moment. At first she seemed unsure about the idea, but then nodded and handed the bag over.

Ruby quickly turned to Pyrrha.

"Room please."

Pyrrha was quick to respond. Efficient and reliable as always.

"Two-zero-five. Let me just find the key… "

Ruby shook her head no.

"I'll take the master key. Weiss won't need it." she grinned, yanking the ring of keys that hung on the inside of Weiss' suit jacket and running off with the bag. The master key unlocked every room in the hotel, including the safe in Weiss' room. On any other occasion she would've scolded Ruby right there and then but this time she didn't even flinch. Those golden eyes turned back to her.

"I… Good evening. Are you staying the night?" Weiss snapped back to her usual self, containing her reaction for a later point.

"Yes." the woman nodded and her eyes focused on the badge on her chest. "You're the Concierge here? Aren't you a bit young?"

"Maybe. But I can run a hotel better than people twice my age, and I have done so for the past year. Some critics have gone so far as to call me a legend." Weiss responded with confidence, but not even a sliver of surprise came over the woman's face. Weiss hadn't meant to boast, but it had somehow tumbled out.

"I may be wrong, but don't you need to be dead to be a legend?"

Pyrrha placed a key on the counter and slid it across.

"Your room key Miss Belladonna."

The woman took the key, never breaking eye contact with Weiss until she turned to Pyrrha and nodded her thanks.

"Call me Blake."

The woman - Blake- brushed past Weiss, who watched her pass with a steely gaze. For the first time in a while, Weiss had been beaten in a game of verbal wits. And for the first time ever, she was completely okay with it.

As soon as she was gone, Weiss turned to Pyrrha.

"Who is she?" she said quietly, and Pyrrha pulled the logbook up for Weiss to see.

"No one, apparently. I don't recognise the name, and she isn't representing a business. She paid in cash up front too. For two weeks." she explained, pointing to the name written in trailing, complex lettering.

Weiss' eyes widened slightly. Her scar was beginning to sting. The humidity did that sometimes. She placed a finger against the tender pink skin, feeling strangely vulnerable. The scar was a relic of the past, back when Vale and Atlas first went to war. She'd been caught in a bombing while out with her mother, a particularly frightening experience that still sometimes graced her dreams, and more often her nightmares. The scar was a reminder that the world was harsh and unforgiving. The shrapnel that had left a mark on her body had also left a mark on her mind. And she could feel it, right at that moment.

"Blake Belladonna." Weiss said quietly, as Pyrrha took the book away again. The name rolled off her tongue like the sweetest of honey.

But this left Weiss in a bad situation, caught between her duties as a hostess and the coiling sensation in her stomach. She was completely unknown person, a missing piece, a golden gem. She could be anyone. Her instinct told her to deal with the problem head on and have the woman leave the hotel. But in the same vein, she wanted her to stay as long as possible. It was difficult to decide when she was arguing against herself.

"Have her money checked for counterfeits, and then have it double checked. I want to know who we're dealing with." Weiss said quickly, pushing away from the desk.

"Right away Concierge."

She had an idea of who might know the identity of the woman. She would need to leave the hotel to see them, however, and she wanted to get a better idea of who she was leaving the hotel to. She had the greatest faith in her employees. It was the guests she didn't quite trust yet.

Weiss was now at war with herself, and she had no idea who was going to win.

Thusly, the first chapter of The Beacon Hotel is finished. I hope you enjoyed it. I'll be posting regular updates (And by regular I mean probably not regular because what even are schedules) and they'll hopefully be about as long as this is.

Leave a review, favourite and follow if ya' feel like it! Thank you!


	2. Not All Black and White

**The Shining Beacon Chapter 2: Not All Black and White**

Yang started her day off like any other. Wake up at six and watch the sky turn orange as the sun dotted the horizon through the single window in her kitchen whilst eating a bowl of cereal and sipping sugary tea. This was followed by stretches, a half an hour workout session (consisting of crutches, push ups and pull ups on the rusted pipe that ran above the hall) topped off with a light jog around the empty streets. The Shining Beacon was placed rather precariously upon a hill on the outskirts of Vale and it took about half an hour to get there from Yang's apartment. Yang didn't mind the distance. It gave her a chance to reflect on what she had to do that day, and take in the view as she neared the top. More and more of Vale became visible the higher you went, and if caught at a good time - say just as the sun was setting, or alternatively rising - then the view was dazzling. At night you could sometimes see the small bursts of light far off in the distance. That was what war looked like, she'd said to Ruby as they walked home one evening. She never believed the war would hit them here, not this far out. It was a chilling thought, and Yang tended to move away from it whenever the idea popped into her head, instead focusing on her job.

Working as a janitor wasn't the most glorified job in the world, the hours were long and the work was a slog, but most of the time the hotel was in perfect condition so there wasn't much she needed to do. Despite her name tag saying janitor, she was more like the caretaker. She fixed drains and piping, as well as electrics and lighting in all of the rooms, besides the room Weiss slept in. That was off limits to all staff. Nobody asked any questions, because nobody really minded. Weiss had single handedly pulled the hotel out of bankruptcy, so if she wanted a room to herself, so be it.

At the end of the day, when most of Yang's work was finished, she often found herself in the boiler room. She'd slowly made herself a little den down there, with a few rolls of carpet topped by pillows and blankets, and had even snuck down a few books from the small cupboard in the dining hall. She'd spend her time reading or napping, comforted by the loving warmth of the boiler. Her younger sister complained that the boiler room was too warm to have naps, and often joked that Yang was a dragon in disguise. Yang just smiled and shrugged. She didn't find it too warm. It was more like a hug, or a warm blanket. Weiss had found her down there once and had given her a stern warning about sleeping with so many exposed pipes, and ordered her to cover them so she wouldn't burn herself by accident.

"I don't have time to hire another janitor." Weiss had told her, and banned her from napping until the room was safe. That was around the time Yang decided to stay with her job at the hotel. And it went without saying that Yang did exactly what Weiss had told her to do. Within a day the pipes were covered with flame retardant thermal insulation and Weiss never mentioned it again.

The rain was heavier than yesterday and Yang pulled her jacket tightly around herself in retaliation. Winter had arrived rather hastily this year, arriving suddenly on the first day of the month. The days had become shorter the and the weather took a turn for the worse. It was as if the world knew there was a war going on and had decided to make it even worse. The rain struck like little explosions on her face as the hotel came into view. She yearned for the heat of the boiler, but knew she had a day of work still to get through. First on the agenda was the painting that Ruby had told her to take down. She'd said it was outside of a room, but she couldn't quite remember which rooms. She knew it was the second floor, so it really didn't matter which door it was outside of.

"The one with the Sailor and the Lighthouse. You know it?"

Yang had murmured a response, something akin to, 'I know _of_ it.' and went back to napping. She didn't know what painting it was, honestly, but in the moment Yang just wanted to go back to sleep. She was to put it in the basement, which meant she'd have to get the basement keys from the supply cupboard. She could pick up her overalls while she was there, and get changed in the boiler room before heading up to get the painting.

Yang shrugged her coat off as she made her way through the lobby. After chatting with Pyrrha for a few minutes, she said goodbye and made her way to the supply cupboard, which was located to the right of the grand staircase. Inside was a broom, a mop and bucket, as well as her overalls and her keys, which dangled from a hook on the opposite wall. She draped the overalls over her shoulder and slipped the keys into her pocket, before making her way into the boiler room next door. The warmth hit her before she'd even turned the light on. With Winter having arrived, the boiler would be on full tilt most of the day. Not that Yang minded - the warmer the better. She stripped off her clothes until she was in her underwear and slipped her legs into the overalls, before tying the arms around her waist. The overalls made her sweaty when worn completely on, so she kept with the old tank top she usually wore under her clothes, and used that as a top instead. Weiss wasn't the biggest fan of this fashion, but none of the guests ever seemed to complain, so she kept it as is.

All of the staff at The Beacon were told to use the emergency stairs when travelling between floors so that the guests didn't see them carrying equipment around the hotel. Yang didn't mind this, because the stairs were far quieter than the elevator, and you didn't have to worry about spilling anything like on the main staircase, which was carpeted. These stairs were painted concrete, and most of the time were deserted. Some of the staff came here to smoke when they couldn't get the chance during their break, which meant it had a faint smell of stale tobacco. This annoyed Yang to no end as she had recently quit and the smell set her teeth on edge.

She scaled the stairs two at a time and and stepped out into the second floor hallway. As she did however, she spotted a familiar blonde tail as it rounded the corner two room away. Yang frowned slightly. Sun Wu Kong was a faunus waiter that worked in the kitchen, and was the only member of staff with a blonde tail, that Yang knew of. He rarely had any need to wander the halls, unless someone had ordered a particularly large order for room service and Ren needed help carrying it up. So unless that was the case, Yang couldn't find a reason for Sun to be out of the kitchen. She poked her head around the corner, before quickly ducking it back again as Sun stopped at door a few feet away. She listened intently for any sort of noise and heard the rapping of knuckles on wood, a pause, and then the sound of a door creaking open. Luckily, yang had forgotten to oil the hinges on the doors of just about every room in the hotel, so they all creaked like mad crows when they opened. And then, a faint whispering. It was low and rushed, but Yang could just make it out.

"What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since-" Sun began, but his voice tapered off. Yang leaned closer towards the corner, trying her best to listen. It was at times like this that she envied the way Faunus could focus on sounds.

"- Why are _you_ here? If we get caught talking, what do you think's going to happen?" a female voice replied. Yang didn't recognise the voice, so she knew it wasn't another member of staff. The tone suggested intelligence, and it was slightly deeper than normal. A guest, she assumed.

"Blake, if you're doing what I think -" Sun said with his usual loud blatancy, before being cut off completely. Yang heard the door creak shut again. Peering round the corner, Yang saw the hallway was empty. He must've gone inside, with however he was talking to. She rounded the corner to get a look at the door number. The engraved numbers glinted against the soft glow of the lights.

Five - Oh - Two. Yang memorised the number and returned to her place at the corner. She waited a few minutes for Sun to return, and as she did she got to thinking. The guest - Blake - was clearly up to something. Yang didn't tend to keep track of who had checked in or out of the hotel, so the name meant nothing to her. Did Sun have a girlfriend? Yang was a sucker for gossip like this, and the idea that she was the first to know about it put a smile on her face.

Yang couldn't help but admire Sun. While not bad looking, Sun could be somewhat childish and obscene. Though in fairness, he did have a strange honesty about him, however that didn't come out too often. And Yang marveled at the fact that Sun, a Faunus _waiter,_ had not only bagged a woman, but one that could afford to stay at the hotel. That was no small feat. Still, good on him. Yang even felt a pang of envy at the idea. But that was another problem entirely. Meanwhile, the door creaked open again. Yang took a few silent strides to the door she had come though and pretended to come through it again, just as Sun turned the corner.

"Oh, hey Sun. Why're you up here?" she asked, sounding surprised to see him and feigning a lack of interest beautifully. Sun jumped, and acted skittish for a moment, trying his best to seem not so out of place. He was failing miserably.

"Y-yang? Oh, just, you know... Room service stuff. Ren was busy so I said I'd help out." he shrugged it off, and Yang flashed a sly grin. He looked like a deer in the headlights for a moment, but Yang just kept on walking.

"Whatever. Seeya around." she said smugly, strolling past him and down the corridor as he nervously made his way back to the stairs. Yang smiled, and laughed at her jest. It was childish, but she was happy to know that Sun had found someone. She wanted happiness for others. Ruby had said that's what people should focus on, and for the moment, Yang was happy to do so. But in the same moment, she wondered why she couldn't find someone for herself. She'd almost given up entirely. If not for small things like this. If Sun could find someone, why couldn't she? She realised she needed a talk with Pyrrha, who she'd always gone to for things like this. Now lost in her thoughts, Yang walked by the painting she'd been told to take down and didn't even give it a second look.

* * *

Weiss scanned the menu for the next day's dinner. She had taken a seat in the lounge, which housed several large leather chairs and oak tables, with a bar at the far end of the room. She'd been given a copy of the menu last night and still needed to make a few changes. Her run in with Blake Belladonna had made her falter in her duties as a Concierge, and that was unacceptable. She ran a finger down the paper and marked a cross next to 'Beef Stroganoff'. It seemed out of place in an all vegetarian menu, which had been so lovingly requested by the insufferable Ms. Goodwitch. How that woman pushed her buttons. She signed her name at the bottom and called Ruby, who took the menu and ran off to give it to Nora. However, her mind took her back to Goodwitch for some reason. And then she remembered an incident she'd forgotten, a rumor that she had dismissed almost immediately. Weiss had overheard the maids talking about Goodwitch as she passed by a room they were cleaning. Normally she would've recommended that they each clean a room instead of all three do one room, but the gossip around Ms. Goodwitch made her listen instead of speak.

"She needs a man, that's what I say." she heard one say in a judging, matter-of-fact tone and another maid hummed in agreement. "No, no she _had_ a man." another spoke up "He died, and now she is… angry and lost. The story was that she was married to the man who once ran this place. What was his name? Oz or something or other." the maid explained and there was a silence, before the final one spoke up.

" _I_ still think she's a cow." she quipped, and the three maids all began laughing.

It was no secret that Goodwitch seemed to have a chip on her shoulder when it came to the hotel. It had always puzzled Weiss why she kept coming back, however. If she hated the place so much, why did she keep paying to stay here, especially when it was so far out of the way? It puzzled Weiss, but she wasn't going to spend any more time thinking about it. There was a very important guest arriving soon. She stood up from her seat and left the lounge, moving out into the lobby where she found Yang talking to Pyrrha at the front desk. As Weiss approached, Pyrrha smiled and nodded, before noticing Weiss' incoming presence. Whispering a quick warning to Yang, she turned to the Concierge with a pleasant smile.

"Concierge. Yang was informing me that...Eh, that she had fixed the lightbulb in room..er..." Pyrrha began, but she began to falter under Weiss' glare.

"Three -oh - six." Yang cut in, and Pyrrha nodded in confirmation. It was a lie and they both knew it, but they also knew that Weiss didn't like having the janitor in the lobby.

"Is that so? I wasn't aware that a light bulb had blown." Weiss said, playing along with their little show for now. Yang nodded with a smile, deciding it was probably time to go. She nodded goodbye to Pyrrha and started to walk away, but Weiss called to her as she did.

"Yang?"

Yang stopped in her tracks and turned to her, even though she was now a few metres away.

"Yes Concierge?" she said sweetly, but knowing what was coming.

"Next time pick a room that hasn't been reserved for a high ranking official. I checked that room this afternoon. No blown bulb. Is it possible that you were… Mistaken, in the room number perhaps?" Weiss said, hands clasped behind her back.

"Most likely, Concierge. My apologies." Yang said, squirming slightly.

"It's okay. I understand. Next time, make sure you know who're you're lying to."

"Yes Concierge." Yang said with reddening cheeks, before turning on her heel and sulking off back to the boiler room, presumably for a nap. Weiss turned to Pyrrha, who looked like a child who'd been caught stealing.

"Did you get the money checked, Pyrrha?" she said quickly, avoiding further chit chat. Pyrrha nodded. The money she was referring to was Ms. Belladonna's. She'd paid for the reservation with a bag full of money, all freshly banded and in stacks

"Yes." Pyrrha snapped back to her more professional self. "Everything is legal. The bank found nothing wrong with it, except for that it was perhaps a bit _too_ perfect." Pyrrha said, and Weiss raised an eyebrow.

" _Too_ perfect?" she asked curiously, stepping closer to the desk. Pyrrha pulled the bag out from a large drawer next to her feet and opened it, pulling out a wad of notes.

"The money is in mint condition. It can't be more than a few months old." Pyrrha explained, handing the money over. Weiss inspected it, flicking through the tightly banded stack as she thought over this new information.

"So how did she get it?" she pondered aloud. Pyrrha said nothing, just stood there and watched the Concierge think things through. Newly minted money was difficult to come by, as most of it went straight into bank vaults for storage. It was wartime, and every note had to be counted and was only to be replaced if needed. So how did Blake get a bag full of the stuff?

"Have you found anything that may give us a hint as to Ms. Belladonna's place of employment?" Weiss asked, and Pyrrha shook her head. Weiss was irritated. There was too many questions and severe lack of answers. Who was this mysterious woman, and why did she want to stay here? Where did she get the money from? Was she a bank worker, or a bank robber? It was all so confusing. She would have to think about it later. If Weiss was on time, ad she rarely wasn't, then she didn't have time for conspiracy theories.

"Could you tell me the time, please?" she asked, placing the money back on the desk. Pyrrha inserted it back into the bag, which she then placed back in the drawer and closed it, before checking the time on her pocketwatch.

"A little past eight 'o'clock, Ma'am. General Ironwood is expected to arrive at-"

"Prep his room. He always likes to arrive early, to try and catch me off guard. Take an unopened bottle of 34' Dalmore and place it on his bedside table, along with a tumbler." Weiss said quickly, reaching down to straighten the cuffs on her suit. Pyrrha nodded and set off towards the stairs while Weiss took her place behind the front desk. Another one of Weiss' many rules. Someone, no matter who, must always be behind the desk in case of a guest arriving behind or before schedule. And Weiss was expecting this guest to be _very_ ahead of schedule. She smiled pleasantly as the lobby door opened.

* * *

General Ironwood was a tall, handsome man in his late fifties. His grey hair was cut to perfection, slicked back on top of his head. He was rather tall and well built for a man reaching his early fifties, and there was a slowly withering height difference between him and Weiss. Despite his age and the fact he'd retired several years earlier, he still had managed to find a place on the War Council of Vale. His experience meant he was a valuable ally, and the fact that he was Atlas born meant that he had special insight into Atlas' plans. There was a fair share of controversy around him too, of course. An Atlas former soldier working for Vale, and in a fairly high up position? Let's just say he had his fair share of enemies both on the Council and in the public. Despite this, Ironwood always seemed calm and focused, with more than enough intelligence in his eyes. He was witty, sharp and a total flirt. And not to mention, very open with his views on Weiss' father. He had on multiple occasions stated that Jacques Schnee should be arrested for human rights violations. It was fair to say that General Ironwood was one of Weiss' favourite guests.

Ironwood approached the front desk, shrugging off his coat and handing it to a small portly man who worked as his personal assistant. A few more men, built like bodybuilders, stepped into the building, dressed in dark suits and fedoras. They began inspecting the lobby, presumably for threats. Weiss kept a wary eye on them as Iron wood spoke.

"Weiss! You are a sight for sore eyes, my dear." he said with a confident grin, stepping up to the desk. Weiss gave him her own smile and raised her hand. He took it in his own and placed a light kiss upon it.

"General Ironwood. It has been too long." she said, opening the logbook. Ironwood gazed around the hotel lobby, and smiled. It _had_ been too long since he'd been at the Beacon. He loved it, it's old but modern feel, it's fantastic service and it's more than friendly staff. Every time he stepped into the hotel, he felt entranced by its beauty. It was well worth the day drive to get there.

"You're room should be ready, the same one as always. I have taken the liberty of placing a fine whiskey in your room. I understand you must be in a bit of stress." Weiss said, turning the logbook towards Ironwood and handing him the white feathered quill to write his name. As he did so, she took the key out from under the drawer and handed it to the portly man who'd handled Ironwood's coat.

"You are a diamond in the rough, Weiss." he smiled warmly, just as Pyrrha arrived back again.

"General Ironwood." she greeted him with her own smile, and Ironwood nodded to her, but couldn't help himself.

"Weiss, where do you find these marvellous creatures?" he quipped, and Pyrrha did her best to suppress a blush. Weiss put an arm out, motioning for him to follow, adding her own quip in.

"I only hire the best."

They walked together up the main staircase, talking of trivial matters. It was nice to see Ironwood again, his presence always comforted Weiss. In a way, he had taken the long forgotten fatherly role in Weiss' life. He'd first met her when she was young, and he was a fresh faced politician from Atlas. They had both attended a Charity Gala a few years prior, when Weiss was fifteen. Ironwood was in his forties, but looked and acted with the same vigor and confidence as a twenty year old. He was prided on his intelligent decisions and thought out plans, while still being a pleasure to work with. Weiss had stayed at the side the entire night, sulking quietly in her dress and trying her best to stay with Winter. But when Winter was swept away by a black haired soldier, Weiss was left on her own. Her father was off trying to entice investors into his business, and her mother was making liberal use of the free bar. And then Ironwood had taken a seat beside her, smiling kindly. He'd asked her why a lovely girl was sitting on her own and she explained her situation with a stony expression, and Ironwood had just laughed. At first she she'd blushed in embarrassment, but then he began to agree with her. He complained about how everyone was older and looked tired and sad all the time. They laughed together, and Ironwood stayed with her the rest of the night, keeping her company. It was a strange feeling, being the centre of someone's attention for once. He was genuine, kind and acted like he cared what she had to say. Weiss treasured their relationship.

"Will you be down for dinner?" Weiss asked as they arrived at Ironwoods room.

"No, I think I'll have a rest first. Perhaps we can share a dinner so we can catch up? I want to know how running the hotel has been." he suggested, and Weiss nodded with a smile.

"How does nine sound?"

* * *

On the other side of Vale, Whitley stood quietly outside of the Schnee mansion, hands gripped firmly behind his back. The cold air bit at the cut on his lip and the bruise on his cheek, but he ignored the pinching sensation. He lowered his eyes as Jacques stepped out of the house behind him and brushed past him, getting in the back of the pricey car that had been sat in front of the house for a few minutes. The window of the car rolled down, and Jacques gloved hand gestured Whitley forward. Whitley took a shaky step towards the car and bent over so he could see inside of the car.

"Yes sir?"

Jacques' voice was laced with venom as he spoke quietly to his son.

"If I find you back here again, I'll make sure you won't leave. You've failed me enough, so I'm giving you this as a last chance. A gift, if you will. Go back to The Beacon and _force_ Weiss to leave. If she's there when I close this deal, I'll have you search for her body in the rubble, understand?"

Whitley nodded and the car sped off, leaving Whitley in a cloud of dust. He took a moment to think things over, before stepping inside to pack once again.

* * *

The clock chimed as the hour hand reached ten. While on most days there would still be the occasional guest in the dining hall, tonight it was empty, save for one table. The warm glow of the candles created a small bubble of privacy in the centre of the dark hall as Weiss and Ironwood discussed current events and reminisced about the past. The meal, lovingly prepared by Nora, had been finished and now they were just enjoying each others company. The occasional burst of laughter drifted into the kitchen, where Nora would bubble with excitement and Ren would tell her to shush. But as the night went on, the conversation delved into deeper topics.

"You know I hate to ask James, but I feel obliged." Weiss began, and Ironwood took a deep breathe as she asked the question he dreaded. "How is the war?"

Despite himself, he laughed. "You talk as if it's my child, like I'm nurturing it instead of trying to end it."

In that moment, James Ironwood sounded tired. And he was tired. Tired of the war, tired of the responsibilities that it brought, tired of having the public accuse him of treason and everything else they could pin on an Atlesian politician. He was nearing the end of his rope. The past month had not done him any good. The start of a new war meant new problems that needed a solution. If he didn't provide one, it wasn't just a mistake anymore. It was the lives of soldiers.

"It is… repetitive. The farther we push into Atlas, the more pushback we get. There are some in the General Council who talk of retreating, but if we do that, we'll almost certainly lose the front that we fought so hard for. So many lives would've been wasted." he said, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a long drink.

"You want to keep pushing, then?" she asked, taking a sip from her own glass. The intricacies of war had always interested Weiss, to an almost morbid extent. She liked to imagine in a different time and place she may be just that, a soldier, or a fighter.

"For now, yes. Just until we take the every town on the coast." he nodded, his blue eyes flickering in the candle light. He'd seen combat, a long time ago, during the first Vale/Atlas war. It took a good bit of alcohol to stop those memories replaying on the back of his eyelids. He filled his glass again. Weiss glanced at the clock over his shoulder.

"I hate to say it, but I've passed my bedtime." Weiss said, prompting a snort from Ironwood.

"I remember when you were adamant that you _didn't_ have a bedtime." he laughed, and Weiss gave him a soft smirk.

"I remember when you had black hair." she retorted, and he laughed even harder.

"Touche." he nodded, emptying the last of bottle into Weiss' glass. They sat for a few minutes in silence, finishing the wine off. It was nice to see Ironwood again, and catch up. But the hour was getting late, and Weiss had work the next day, just like every other day. They left together, thanking Nora and Ren with a sizable pay as they went. They wandered up the main staircase and Weiss left Ironwood at the third floor.

She made her way up on her own, feeling the effects of the wine. She tried to straighten up in case any guests saw her, but kept stumbling on her heels so quickly gave up. As she neared her room, her foot caught the edge of a carpet and she fell onto her hands and knees with a thump. She cursed, and tried to pull herself to her feet to no avail. Out of nowhere, she felt two hands grip under her arms and pull her to her feet. She wrestled free of the grip and turned to face her would be helper. She found herself looking back at a pair of lovely golden eyes. Blake offered a hand as Weiss tried to make herself stable, but she swatted it away.

"What are you doing here?" Weiss said, a little to angry to be sober. "I didn't need any help."

"I would beg to differ. You seemed to have some trouble walking up the stairs when I saw you." Blake said, almost smugly. She took Weiss' elbow as the white haired Concierge stumbled again. Blake leaned her against a wall and slid down, taking Weiss' shoes off one at a time. Without the heels on, Weiss was a lot less shaky. She sighed, and reluctantly thanked Blake, who just gave her a smile.

"How about we get you to your room?" Blake suggested and Weiss was in no state to argue. She needed to sleep, and in a seeming blink of an eye, Blake unlocked Weiss' door. It was all a bit of a blur as Weiss stopped taking in what was going on. She felt Blake lower her into bed. She felt her eyes dip, and then there was an inky blackness all around her.

Weiss dreamt she was on a boat, except the water had been replaced with a thick black ink, which stuck to her hands and stained her perfect white skin. Weiss gripped the wheel and tried to pull the boat towards land, but the wind kept pushing her further and further away. And then, a massive wave, the largest she'd even seen, rose up above her and came crashing down upon her.

* * *

 **Hi there! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are now hopefully getting an idea of how everything works in this fic. I promise I'll get the next chapter out a bit faster next time, but I just wanted to make sure this one was good before I posted. Anyway, leave a review, follow and favourite, all that good stuff. Also, I feel this goes without saying, but I don't own shit. All of this is owned by Rooster Teeth. So go thank them.**

 **Thanks!**


	3. The First Day

_Three months prior -_

"I shall now be conducting a formal interview. Answer my question quickly, and within twenty characters."

Weiss spoke firmly, and with the severity of judge, jury and executioner. Ruby was, in all manners, intimidated. She spoke up, her voice comparable to a child's when put against Weiss' overbearing, steadfast timbre.

"Characters or words…?" she inquired shakily, but Weiss either ignored her or didn't hear her, and continued on with the interview regardless of what Ruby had said.

They were sitting in the dining hall, a vast room filled with tables that were _just_ close enough to feel intimate, but _just_ far enough not to invade personal space. It was delicately designed, dressed and furnished, though suffered from poor lighting, most likely due to its height, and the fact that the floor was covered in black carpet. Ruby was so transfixed on the room that she hadn't heard the first question, and the words that had exited Weiss' mouth had tumbled, unheard, into the echoing length of the room. Ruby piped up again in what was now becoming familiar as her intimidated voice.

"I… I'm sorry? Can you repeat the question again, please?"

Weiss didn't look pleased. In fact, she looked the opposite of pleased. She looked angry, with just a hint of irritated and a splash of annoyed. A little perplexed too, as she'd thought she'd made herself perfectly clear in both tone, volume and language. Perhaps the girl, who had been recommended by Yang, was slow, and that perhaps she had talked too fast. She decided to test this theory by repeating the question again the exact same way as before, and seeing if the girl could comprehend it.

"What experience do you have working in hospitality?" she repeated, this time making sure to see if the girl was in fact slow, but to her surprise, the girl answered quickly.

"One year working as a server in Cafe Maki, one year working as a busboy at the Hotel Lieng, and before that working as a skillet scrubber-"

"Experience: zero." Weiss nodded, and wrote something down on her notepad.

Ruby tried her best to read it, but her ability to read words upside down hadn't improved since the last time she'd tried, and ended up missing the next question.

"One more time, please?" she asked with a feeble smile, as Weiss' face took on the look of a brick wall; cold, stoney, and a rather burnt shade of red.

"Do you have any experience working as a lobby boy?" Weiss said through teeth clenched so hard you could place a walnut inside of her jaw and use her as a decorative nutcracker at christmas.

"I worked as a valet at the Hotel Chr-"

"No… Experience." Weiss said again, trailing her sentence on as she wrote down her thoughts, upside down once again.

Of course it was only upside down to Ruby, and not to Weiss, but the fact remained that to at least one person in the room, it was upside down writing, and that made Ruby rather distracted. It would be so much more helpful if Weiss wrote upside down, and then Ruby could see if she was doing well or not.

Weiss meanwhile wondered if Yang had offered this girl up as some sort of joke. She had no experience worth a damn, and seemed to lose herself to daydreams in record time. It seemed like a bad fit. There was very little she could think of that would turn this interview around. In future, Weiss noted, be sure not to take recommendations from janitors.

It was at this moment that fate, in what she found to be it's mysterious and entirely reliable fashion, intervened on her behalf.

Ren entered with a worried look on his usually stoic face. Ruby turned to look, but by that time he had taken his place beside Weiss. He whispered in her ear, quiet enough for Ruby to not hear, and waited for Weiss' response.

She thought silently for a few moments, before turning her gaze, cold and calculating, on Ruby.

"How fast can you run?" she said in what could accurately be described as a demanding tone.

Ruby's silver eyes twinkled.

"Fast enough to solve whatever problem you're having." she said, encouraged by the question and now charged with the need to impress Weiss.

Weiss raised an eyebrow suspiciously, before turning to Ren and whispering a discreet order. Ren nodded, taking off immediately towards the lobby once again. Weiss began speaking quickly to Ruby, who tried her best to keep it up.

"I need you to run to Room 3-1-4 and inform that the guest, Professor Port, that his newspaper will be late by thirty minutes. Then, run to the newsagents and pick up a stack of Vale City, Vale Times, and The Financial World." she instructed, pulling a lien card from inside her jacket pocket and sliding it across to Ruby, who was quietly murmuring the name of the newspapers to herself. Weiss continued without asking if she'd heard. A good lobby boy, after all, would have taken all this in with ease.

"Once you've collected the papers, take one of each to Ports room along with a complimentary cake. Pyrrha will tell you where to go." she finished, standing up and straightening her coat out with the back of her hand.

Ruby nodded and took the card. Weiss looked at her squarely for the first time, and, seeing the determination in her eyes, stopped her.

"Hold it. I have a question first." Weiss said, and Ruby turned to face her. This was the first time they'd stood face to face, and Weiss took into account the height difference between them both. Ruby was far shorter than she originally thought. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she spoke to her as if posing a query, rather than interrogating her.

"Why do you want to be a lobby boy?"

Ruby took a moment, a thoughtful pause, before answering.

"Because I want to help people." Ruby said simply.

Weiss considered this, and then nodded. Ruby poised herself before dashing off through the doors, leaving Weiss alone in the hall.

"Good enough." she thinks.

To say Ruby could run was like saying water could flow.

She sprinted down the road towards town, feet slapping noisily against the stone. Yang was right, the view from the hill was spectacular. She could almost see church that had collapsed a few weeks before, hit by an Atlesian bomb. Thankfully no one had been killed, but the priest was, ironically, torn apart about the whole thing. It was a cold morning, despite Winter still being a month of two off, but Ruby could feel the cold wind in her face.

The newsagents was a small stand, circular in shape, no bigger than the service elevator at the Hotel and inhabited the center of a wide promenade that led towards the centre of town. The man inside, a small, frail old man with large bushy eyebrows, eyed her suspiciously (or, eyebrowed her) when she asked for the order, but he was very happy to hand over what she'd asked for when she retrieved the Lien card from her back pocket and held it out.

The run back up was far less exciting now that she was hauling three stacks of hefty, first edition on-a-sunday newspapers. One in each hand, and another strapped to her back.

When she did finally arrive at the Hotel once again, she greeted Pyrrha with a pained whimper that only slightly resembled a dying cat. Pyrrha looked impressed. Ruby dropped the two stacks in her hands and struggled to get the third off her back. She started to struggle, and tried to shake it off with a tired moan. Pyrrha laughed lightly into her hand, before circling the desk and helping the poor girl out.

"I'll be the first to admit, I didn't think you'd make it up the hill." Pyrrha said when finally The Financial World hit the carpet, in an entirely missable case of life imitating life. (That is to say, Vale's financial world had hit the metaphorical floor since the start of the war. Sadly, there was no carpet.)

"Nothing stops...me…" Ruby gasped, arching over and taking a few short huffs of breathe while Pyrrha returned to her spot behind the desk.

Pyrrha slid a golden key across the desk that she'd pulled out in anticipation of Ruby's return. It read 3-1-4 in embellished decorative numbers. Ruby took one of each newspaper and held them under her arm.

"Thank...you…" she huffed, taking the key and jogging off again, lagging as she hit the main stairs. Pyrrha watched, and with a helpful smile, reminded her that there was an elevator.

Port was a rather...gracious man, in both demeanour and appetite. His name suited him well, Ruby thought. He'd opened the door in a robe, and smiled widely under his thick mustache as Ruby handed over the papers.

"M. Schnee sends her apologies for the delay, and hopes you will accept this…" Ruby's apology was cut short as the cake popped into her mind like a punch to the jaw.

"-The cake?" Port cut in, and Ruby stiffened, now worried he could read minds. He gave a jolly sounding chuckle and nodded, patting his _port_ ly stomach.

"It was quite lovely. Thank you. Send my regards to the chef. Or, er, baker." Port said, and Ruby nodded quietly, before leaving the man to his newspapers.

Ruby was confused, but reasoned that the large man _probably_ couldn't read minds, and that someone must have delivered the cake _prior_ to her arrival. But who? The answer came in the form of a familiar voice, emanating from behind her.

"You forgot the cake."

Weiss spoke calmly, delicately, and without the accusatory tone that Ruby would've expected.

"I'm sorry M. Weiss. I got tired getting those newspapers up the hill that I completely forgot about the cake." Ruby said, giving into whatever Weiss had to say.

What came next was a welcome surprise, one that spurred on a great respect for Weiss in Ruby's mind.

"I didn't expect you to get those papers up the hill in the first place, Ruby. It was an almost impossible task, one that I would've gotten Ren to do in a _car._ " she said.

"The fact you even attempted such a task speaks volumes more than your interview, and it's that sort of dedication that I am looking for. A lobby boy will be expected to carry heavy cases on an almost daily basis."

Ruby saw the sense in this, and began to see the sort of business that Weiss, or, M. Schnee, was running. Dedication was key. And Ruby was nothing if not dedicated.

"Does this mean I got the job?" Ruby asked hopefully, and Weiss nodded.

"You start tomorrow. You'll work from seven till twelve on every day but sunday, where you'll work a half day. You can pick your uniform up from Crow's Tailor in town."

Ruby's ears perked up a little.

"Is that a Crow with a C? Or a Q?"

"A C." Weiss said suspiciously, and Ruby shrugged.

"Nevermind then. Thought it was another tailor I knew."

The two then stood in silence for a few moments, an awkward cloud filling the space between them. Finally, Ruby spoke up with a smile.

"How did my interview go-"

"You failed it."

Now that a new lobby boy had been hired, and a good one at that, Weiss entered the dining hall in order to prepare it for afternoon lunch. Much to her displeasure, there was somebody already sat at the bar in the hall. An older woman who, in her prime, may have spurred the attention of many men, but now had lost her beauty to time, as all things did.

Miss Goodwitch was Weiss' least favourite guest, and was also the longest staying guest on record, having inhabited her room even before the Hotel was under Weiss' strict control. She sauntered towards Weiss, who tried her best to ignore the pretentious old cow.

"You shouldn't own this place you know…" Goodwitch slurred, her words coming out in growls and squeaks.

"You have no idea what it's worth, you young…..Harlot."

Weiss put on her most pleasant voice given the circumstances. She would've loved to tell her where to go, but that wasn't what a good concierge did. Every guest was special, not just the good ones.

"Perhaps you've had enough to drink today. Would you like me to call someone to help-"

"I don't need help! You ruined it!" she began, angrily whipping her hand up and down at Weiss, who stood, ready to catch her when she inevitably ran out of steam.

"This place was supposed to shut… This enchanting old ruin…" she said, her words losing the conviction they'd had.

"That's how it was supposed to stay...A ruin." she finished, any energy that had once filled her now gone in an instant.

Weiss almost felt bad for her. She'd seen past the cold exterior and saw the woman for what she really was. Old and tired and sad.

"I think you should get some rest, Miss Goodwitch. Sleep off whatever you've been drinking." Weiss suggested, lightly taking her arm and leading her towards the door.

"I should've been given this place, not you…" Glynda whispered as Weiss took her through the doors and towards the elevator.

As Weiss quietly handed the old woman off to the rather out of his depth elevator operator, she pondered what she'd meant. The doors shut and Weiss watched it rise as the words replaye din her mind without her consent.

'This place was supposed to shut'.

She meant the Hotel, that much was understandable, but what did she mean ' _supposed_ to shut'? Granted, it was bankrupt when Weiss took control, due to a lack of customers and a few on site accidents. So perhaps she meant it needed to shut because it was dangerous? It didn't seem dangerous.

In any case, the Hotel wasn't going to shut any time soon. But those words stayed with Weiss, until finally, less than three months later, the mystery unravelled in spectacular fashion.

And it began, like most good things, with a horrible monday morning.

 **A shorter chapter than usual, to get myself back into the swing of things. I hope you enjoyed the story thus far, and if not, tell me why. Can't get better if I don't know what's wrong.**

 **Also, sorry for the hiatus. Life happened, as it does, and I lost track of time. But I should be updating this with something close to regularity. Thanks again!**

 **TheUnrealShowoddyWoddy**


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